Ready, Aim, Fire
by okidokifili
Summary: Learning how to be Bucky Barnes again, Bucky wasn't prepared for what the short British woman who lived in the apartment next door would bring. Learning to take things day by day he's slowly beginning to feel like himself again, thanks to the ever persistent girl next door of course. BuckyxOC, set after events of TWS, contains spoilers.


**Hello! So I'm back to writing, I'm STUCK with what to write for my other two stories so they are on hold for now while I refresh myself with something new.**

**I don't know if this counts as an AU since S.H.I.E.L.D are **_**technically **_**still around, but they're like, underground and starting from scratch...So...Yeah.**

**Sadly nothing that you find familiar is mine, I can only claim Eleanor and the plot. But yeah, enjoy!**

* * *

3 months was all it took for Bucky Barnes to cave in.

Since rescuing Steve from drowning he kept to himself, he went into hiding, manily to avoid the scattered HYDRA agents that were undoubtedly hunting him down, but really he knew it was so he could rediscover himself.

_'I'm with you till the end of the line.'_

As soon as the words fell from Steve's lips the memories started, a life that he had no recollection of began playing before him; A blanket fort that they made, being rescued by Steve after being a prisoner of war, falling from that train...

It was all so overwhelming.

At first he didn't trust the 'memories' that he had, still unsure of whether they were planted there by HYDRA to trick him into thinking a certain way, he knew that they would do anything to get him back. Whenever he would venture out of hiding for food or basic supplies something simple would trigger another memory. It was never anything complex, sometimes it was as simple as a flyer stapled to a tree for the local carnival; images of dragging a sickly looking Steve off of the Cyclone at Coney Island pierced his brain, he always shook his head clear and carried on walking, never believing them.

After weeks of monotony and doing nothing but staring at the TV in a rundown hotel room, he decided to try his luck. Pulling his hat down over his eyes he stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and walked the few blocks from his room to the Smithsonian to see the Captain America exhibit.

_'I'm your friend.'_

It all seem so strange to him, pictures and film clips wherever he looked of men he knew he should know. Men that, if what he'd been remembering was real, he'd fought beside and laid down his life for. How could he not know them? He remembered Steve, but that only came in blurring clips, as soon as they came they were blurring into memories of darker times.

He found himself wandering through the crowds, stopping to read any piece of information there was, watching clips of him laughing with Steve, his hands still firmly planted in his jacket pockets. The crowd moved on and so did he, turning around he came face to face with his own holographic photo. He looked so different; his hair was shorter, and there was something youthful about the cocky smile he wore. He would have doubted it was him if it wasn't for his eyes; HYDRA covered his face as much as possible while he was The Winter Soldier, leaving only his eyes free from the mask. He was never given a mirror, never told to look after himself, so he never felt a need to know what he looked like; all he needed to know was his mission.

But, even then HYDRA couldn't control that. It happened alot, it was the one thing that made him feel something, seeing his eyes reflected in something. It felt natural to him, like that was his constant throughout the freezing and the wiping, they never changed and that comforted him if only a little when he knew he was about to get wiped.

Only a little.

He 'died' in 1943. His stomach knotted when he read that him and Captain America were childhood friends; that meant that his memories were real, HYDRA hadn't messed with his head, not this time. That meant that he'd tried to kill his best friend. His _only_ friend left alive.

It was only another month and a half before Bucky Barnes caved in.

"You know Pepper there was a time when you would have been _lynched_ for doing that." Tony spoke from the fridge, "Yeah I know, but just get some sleep. Yeah yeah, I love you too. Night." Hanging up, he did a little dance as he drank straight from the carton knowing that he'd never get away with that if Pepper was around. Now was his time to live a little.

"Jesus!" Bucky watched from the table as he jumped dramatically with his hand over his heart, grabbing a frying pan from nearby Tony held it up in defence. "What the hell are you doing?! What-"

Bucky ignored the man's rambling and struggled to place his left arm on the table in front of him. Tony looked from the arm to the face of the man it belonged to from behind the frying pan. Bucky shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he cast his eyes down at his slightly worn looking arm. "I don't know how to fix it myself." He mumbled.

Slowly lowering his pan he took in the soldiers appearance; he was wearing jogging bottoms that were too baggy, a tattered tee shirt that looked like it had never been washed hid underneath his navy hoodie. His hair was still long and hung limply in front of his face, just covering his overgrown stubble.

Placing the pan down for good, he stepped out from behind the island and waved at him from over his shoulder. "Let's go Robocop."

* * *

"Steve!" Bucky looked at his friend on the opposite sofa and quickly ducked back into his bedroom. He'd been living with Steve for 3 months now, after his arm was repaired by Stark he wanted to make things right and work at being his normal old self again. Steve was optimistic at first, Bucky would talk a little, mainly small talk about the weather, sometimes he'd tell Steve about something he'd remembered; mostly though he just asked Steve how to use the tv, or how to work the 'www.' machine.

Bucky knew who that British accent belonged to oh too well, after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D, Sharon Carter moved out of her cover apartment and back into her old one, leaving Steve's only next door residence to be taken up by a 5'5" British woman.

Eleanor 'Ellie' Greene.

"Ellie, what can I do for you today?" He heard Steve as he invited her in.

Bucky knew that she came over frequently, from what he'd heard of their conversations she was a nursery teacher at the local childrens centre. Slowly, he opened his door just a crack so that he could see them. He'd gotten into this habit every time she could come over, she'd knock the door, he'd hide in his room, and that would be that. Occasionally he'd leave them to it to give them privacy, but more often than not he watched them and how they interacted with each other.

He'd been as assassin long enough to know that today was different; Ellie's usual relaxed demeanour was twisted with her arms wrapped firmly around herself as she sat on the sofa. They were talking quietly, and Bucky was too far away to hear what they were saying so he just watched them in silence.

"So yeah, that's me done for the summer." She sighed dramatically as she leaned back into the sofa, "No working for months on end..." She trailed off looking into space.

"And that's a bad thing?" Steve joked, but Ellie didn't miss the way his eyes flashed over to his room-mates door every now and then.

"I guess. I mean, I have no family here and I haven't really been here long enough to make any friends apart from you and Sam." Sitting up she picked up her tea and sipped it slowly, "And you two are always away on missions now!" Placing her cup down she began to fiddle with the edge of a nearby blanket. "I dunno I guess I should just..." Bucky watched her shrug before sinking back into the sofa. Steve looked him dead in the eye before mumbling something to Ellie.

"Could you give me a second? I've gotta just do something quick." Without giving her a chance to say anything, Steve made his way into Bucky's room and closed the door quickly. He was sat on his bed, trying to look like he'd been reading the entire time.

"Just say hi." Bucky glared at him from behind the book, "You've gotta interact with more than 2 people Buck-"

"I don't _have_ to though, do I?" He snarked back, this wasn't the first time Steve had tried to introduce the two, and logically Bucky knew that it would only help get him back to normal, but he just couldn't face it. Sitting up he turned to face away from his friend when he felt the bed dip nearby.

"You don't have to stay," His eyes glanced at his friend next to him, his blonde hair was in his hands as he begged for what seemed like the hundredth time to introduce him. "Just say hi."

Bucky looked over to the door, "Just say hi and maybe it'll get easier."

Back in the living room on the couch, Ellie kicked her shoes off and placed them neatly under the coffee table. Steve had filled her in on some things about his room-mate, but not everything. "Steve! I'm making more tea!" She called, flicking the kettle on before pulling down 2 fresh cups. She knew he was called Bucky, and not being _completely_ blonde she pieced it together about the winter soldier and Captain America's fallen friend who supposedly died in 1943; not that she'd told Steve of course.

"Ellie," She turned from her thoughts at the sound of a pair of footsteps, "This is my room-mate, Bucky." Grinning at the fact that he'd finally emerged from that room she waved a little and said a little 'hello', not wanting to seem too excited to meet him.

"Hi, I'm Ellie. Would you like a cup of tea?" She asked as she reached for another cup instictively, placing an extra tea bag in the empty cup.

Bucky stared for a moment, his voice didn't seem to want to work so he just nodded silently. He took in her appearance; she was about five foot five with a short, almost pixie like haircut that was almost white in colour it was so blonde. She had wide green eyes that were coated in black mascara that emphasised them as the focal point of her face and had plump, pink lips.

She was quite ordinary, but Bucky couldn't help but feel a little happiness that he'd managed to at least face this ordinary girl. He watched her fetch the kettle as it boiled before looking to Steve for directions on what to do next. Noticing that Steve was purposely avoiding his gaze he panicked a little, coughing once, Bucky managed to murmur a polite "Thank you" as she handed him his tea.

"So Bucky," Looking up from his tea he instinctively stood a little straighter, "How are you?" She smiled a small smile at him before taking a sip of her tea and waited for an answer. He was caught off guard.

Steve always asked him how he was, trying to get him to talk to him about how he felt but he always felt that Steve was obligated to ask that; he was his friend, he had to. But this woman wasn't his friend, she had never met him yet she seemed genuine with her question, frowning a little he looked down at his tea as if that might give him an answer. He didn't quite see the point of conversation yet, Steve or Sam would always ask him how he was, and he always felt the need to say 'fine' even though he wasn't. He didn't really see the point.

"Steve doesn't make tea as nice as this." He opted for instead, knowing that there was no point in lying about how he was; instead he just avoided it all together.

Ellie's face lit up when he said that, "Well us Brit's make the best tea. And I gotta agree," She glanced over at Steve playfully, "you do make terrible tea. Stick to coffee."

Steve furrowed an eyebrow, "But you don't like coffee."

"Exactly!" Bucky found himself half heartedly laughing along with her, "She's right you do make bad tea." He agreed, surprising everyone that he spoke; drinking the last of his tea he placed his cup down on the counter.

"You have no family here?" He tried, unsure of how to be-friend this woman he used what he knew about her from what he'd overheard from his room.

Frowning a little she shook her head, "Nope. Just little old me." Nodding he glanced at Steve who was practically beaming at his friends progress, "My mum visits sometimes, but she doesn't ever really come to see me; I'm usually just ticked off a to-do list when she comes for a conference or something." Being a bad parent was something her mother did professionally.

Eventually they moved into the sitting room, and no matter how hard Ellie tried she just couldn't seem to put him at his ease. He was so on edge, he knew that she was trying her hardest to be friendly and in all honesty he was really enjoying her company; he just couldn't seem to relax.

Placing what must have been her fourth cup of tea down on the table, she stood up and stretched as she grabbed her shoes out from under the table. "Well I best be off, no doubt that Taco want's feeding..." She trailed off as Bucky watched her tie her laces. He thought somewhere in the back of his mind that Taco was her cat, but he wasn't too sure. He'd ask Steve when she left.

"Are you coming back tomorrow?" He found himself asking, he knew Steve was out tomorrow but he liked her company, and maybe having another friend would help him feel normal again.

She nodded with a small smile, "If you want me to. I'm off work for a long while now so I'll be popping around more often...If that's alright with you two?" He knew it was alright with Steve and she was really just asking him if he didn't mind.

Shaking his head a little, she nodded in satisfaction as she waved a quick goodbye before leaving.

Steve grinned, "I'm away tomorrow you know." Bucky nodded as he switched the tv on and started to flip through the channels to find something half decent to watch.

"Ok." Steve said as he made his way over to the computer. Glancing over ever so slightly at his blonde friend, Bucky concentrated on the tv as he tried to formulate a question in the most casual way he could.

"Steve..." He heard him twist in his seat, "I don't know how to make friends." He mumbled lowly, his stare never leaving the tv set.

"We've got the rest of the day," Bucky looked over to see him smiling softly, "how about we fix that?"

* * *

**omg that was so bad so bad but hey, they had to meet, now the main story can start. Stick with me, it's gonna get good I swear. You could really make my day by clicking that review button, subscribe or favourite this story of an awkward 90-something year old. Hopefully you'll stick with it! **


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